Hellsing: The Rapture
by Steph.BitchesLoveCannons
Summary: A series of literally unfortunate and perhaps unnecessary events of the upcoming future. America becomes a powerhouse enemy. the world falls apart. Horses of the End come to ride. And what else? Those damn Nazis, Big guns, Tits, and perhaps strippers. Something that hopefully meets Kohta Hirano's criteria.
1. Order One: Prelogue

**ORDER 1**

**PRELOGUE**

_**DR SEWARD'S DIARY**__(kept in phonograph)_

_8 July 1897_

_There is method in his madness, and the rudimentary idea in my mind is growing. It will be a whole idea soon, and then, oh, unconscious cerebrations! You will have to give the wall to your conscious brother. I kept away from my friend for a few days, so that I might notice if there were any change. Things remain as they were except that he has managed to get a sparrow, and he has already partially tamed it. His means of taming is simple, for already the spiders have diminished. Those that do remain, however, are well fed, for he still brings in the flies by tempting them with his food._

_**MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL**_

_ 6 November_

_His body reformed closer to the great doors of his home and laid still in an abandoned coffin, looking up at the men who had slew him. Abraham had turned his back to the conquered foe after degrading him. Triumphant as he may have been with Sir Godalming, Doctor jack was unsettled. Jack threw his medical bags down and took up the fallen Mr. Morris' Winchester, with intent as he marched to Dracula. Laid by Mr. Morris' body watching what transpired next. Jack whirled like the winds of Aphrodite's son to Dracula and the good Professor forced him back with some sort of unnatural will with just the palm of his hand._

"_ABRAHAM!? HE IS NOT DEAD!" cried out Dr. Seward_

_I found his voice peculiar and changed. It was not the nervous yet relaxed voice of the man who fought feverently for Lucy and mine's sake. It was… chilling. Raspy. Not very masculine either. I saw Professor Van Helsing stand his ground and ready his axe in a tight grip, "Jack… hear me out. We need to discuss—"_

"_For what!? Hear you out for what!? There is no discussion needed! He is un monstro! Your so-called Nosferatu! He SHOULDN'T exist! I must finish what I started centuries ago!"_

_Jack charged again and Abraham pushed him again with that strange force—Wait… 'centuries ago'? What could he have meant by that? With a flash of rage, the strong Doctor hurled a fist to Van Helsing and again, Jack was fended off with ease. But, then I saw it. On his wrists were shackles. Silver shackles under the cuffs of his gloves. Wind gusted through and through the abandoned castle grounds and off went Jack's grey hat. The hat flying off, revealed long luscious black hair of wild waves. By God! It was like I was seeing double. Dracula laid there watching as well, the look on his face was that of (what I could guess to be) shock._

_Dracula didn't bother to move, but his eyes spoke the very words that uttered from his lips "It's you." There in a glorious vindication of state, stood our Doctor Jack. With red eyes._

"_Un monstro indeed"._

1999, Battle of London

_The Deus Ex Machina_ was left in shambles as a young vampire flew off with her master, soaring through the skies. A small chuckle came within the _Deus Ex Machina's _ruins. In the bursts and flames, there was a young Arizonan boy scout perhaps 14 of age, his flared-fluffy hair was a dark grey with black roots and ends. His bangs were pinned back with a bright pink clip. Strangely atop his head were grey cat ears with black tips. His eyes were a bright, viciously toxic-looking green. He cocked a small grin as her tugged on a red wagon with jars and boxes with labels on them. The boy gingerly held a bullet-bitten brain with an over-dramatized sigh, his voice quite girly and with a German accent "Mein Major, what a mess you've made of yourself. But ahhh… _Betrieb Phönix Battalion _begins!" The cat-boy placed the remains of the Major's brain into a jar and sat the jar with the remains of the other major Nazis of the Letzte Battalion that were in the wagon. He stood straight and gave the damning salute appropriate to his cause, he thought to himself with great pride of his name… _'Cheshter Katz'_. He appeared shortly in Doc's lab, obtaining the scientist's and butler's charred and ruined bodies but was excited for something else. The ashes of the Shi. Packing these last remains of the Letzte Battalion, the Cat-boy faded.

_Full moon of October, 2000 (mental notes)_

_Twenty years I have waited. A year has passed since the butler stopped bringing me food—I suppose he is dead. I have heard the murders, the gunfire, the screams of hopelessness, and the barking orders of the Last One. The Last Helsing. Twenty years I have spent under this damnable nosferatu's crypt. Dear Father, is this how Renfield felt?_

_ Full moon of September, 2020 (mental notes)_

_It is 2020, forty years total now since my capture in 1980. That blasted nosferatu is surely gone. Vlad Tepes, Dracula, and Alucard—Gone. It is my time, my new master. Last descendant of my dearest mentor, Abraham Van Helsing. It is time…. _

"_It is time to wake me— Mi maestro—Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing."_


	2. Order Two: Exhumation

**ORDER 2**

**EXHUMATION**

A seemingly timid, short yet bodacious young woman with barely shoulder-length and yellow hair walked the Underground of the esteemed Hellsing Manor. Her garments was a red, skimpy uniform of the Hellsing Organization, across her left breast was the motto and shield of the House name. Her large, pale-red eyes were sorrowful as she rubbed her neck, '_How much longer, Master…? Twenty years… Sir Integra is getting so—.' _She withdrew her thought and sighed, stopping at a strapped off part of the cold basement. She stared for a moment before undoing a few of the buckles just enough to wiggle her way through the doorway.

'_Master won't mind, will he? Just one night.' _The Draculina hesitantly walked into the room and to the large, black coffin that was her Master's—Alucard's—coffin. She gingerly took the blooded brick off of the casket and lifted the top before creeping in. She squirmed around a bit before closing it '_It's awfully roomy and—What's this?'_. As she was trying to get a feel of comfort from His coffin, she didn't like how hard the pillow was. She tried fluffing it some but discovered something, a small leather-bound book, under it. She quickly opened the coffin and examined the notebook, an invading voice in her head that was not hers spoke "_DON'T."_

Seras looked away from the book and leapt out of the coffin, dropping the journal in surprise. The spine of the book popped off, pages flying about from _within_ the spine as the vampirina gasped, "I BROKE IT!" She hurriedly scrambled for the book and pages, but after taking a good look at the journal she noticed the pages that fell weren't from between the front and back covers. She knelt on the ground and picked the pages up, reading them one by one. Her red eyes widened with a small sense of fear, '_This…thing… Older than Master. The first of his kind. A murderer known so well in London—In the world! Leather Apron.'_

Just then there was a chill worse than the cold in the air and a raspy growl from far and deep below her feet.

The Police Girl tidied everything as it was with the exception of the book and hidden pages, taking them with her as she hurled through the halls. The tendrils of her shadows were all twisted up, excited with a sense of dread of what Alucard had kept tabooed. How could he keep this murderer a secret? With recent pages of the book it is detailed that Walter captured the fiend forty years ago in secret. How did he know of this rare animal? '_It's too late to ask him now, he's dead', _Seras sighed a little as she came to a halt to a tall, wooden door—thinking of the Old Walter. The Walter that wisecracked and was ever so coy and experienced. She huffed again before flinging the door open with the notes in hand, "_SIR INTEGRA!_"

There she was, aged some yet not. She retained her beauty even at this age and having no left eye. No… the long-haired, sandy-blonde, tan woman still had that one sterling ice-blue eye. She peered up from documents that she had sprawled out all over her desk, '_Good God, what now..?'_. She examined her loyal companion and eyed the old, crinkled papers in Seras' hands, "What is it in your grasp, Seras?". Seras stumbled to the desk and pushed the papers down, sky-blue eyes still wide "JACK THE RIPPER…_ IS __HERE_!" Integra looked her sharp right eye at the vampire, a bit taken back. She shuffled through the old pages and took a look at the notebook, her one eye widened more, "This is impossible… the Seward blood line is a farce. We've had the real Doctor John 'Jack' Seward caged like an animal for 40 years. In an under keeping darker and deeper than Alucard's 'as to not hear its insane howls for freedom'. _Where_ did you find this journal— one of Abraham Van Helsing's journals?"

"…In Alucard's coffin."

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WHERE YOU DOING IN THERE!?"

"I _MISSED_ HIM!"

"THAT'S NOT A GOOD EXCUSE! BAD GIRL!"

"M-MASTER INTEGRA!?"

"Secondly… HOW DID THIS BOOK GET THERE!?"

"I don't know! Walter had it before Alucard—He made the last entry!"

The head of the Organization came to a silence, feeling her weathered face and remembering Walter. All the while Seras couldn't help her thoughts as she looked to her commander with sadness, '_Not this again…'_ Integra quickly glared up, "DON'T GIVE ME THAT LOOK!"

Upon being yelled at, Seras was going to retaliate but decided against it as she opened her mouth, "Sorry, Sir. I won't." She stood there as she watched Integra resume flipping through the notes. The more Sir Hellsing digged into the pages of this 128 year old journal, the more pale she became. The details of this inert being was a complex contradiction of what life is and isn't, of how such an immortal being can have a beating heart. "Alucard and Walter both kept this _thing_ a secret. As strong as you are, Seras, I don't think we've yet to have a werewolf on our side. Have we?" Integra gave a sly smirk at the Police Girl as the vampirina shook her head just some, "But we should wait for Alu—!" The respected noble rose up and grinned ever so slightly, "Let's wake Mr. Jack up." In the back of the Police Girl's mind, she thought and knew for sure… 'this is a bad idea'.

TO BE CONTINUED


	3. Order Three: Jack in the Box

**ORDER 3**

**JACK IN THE BOX**

It was the full moon of October, they had waited a month for this moon. Whether it was a work of superstition on Van Helsing's part or fact, in the notes that Integra so carefully inspected she was to wake Seward up on this moon. Marching through the halls of the cold basement were a battalion of Hellsing men and the Vatican agents of Iscariot XIII, Sir Integra leading them with Seras Victoria and Chief M'Quve of the 13th Division. Integra barked orders, seemingly to be in high spirits as her men unstrapped Alucard's tomb, "What are we doing here, if you don't mind me asking?" spoke M'Quve.

Chief M'Quve was a tall and lonesome-looking sort. He had a large scar down the right side of his face and his droopy, relaxing eyes were the color of the back on a classically gray wolf. His hair was a light gray despite looking to be in his thirties and he was adorned in the cloths of a bishop. Integra grinned as the men pushed the door wide open and swooped in, "In the notes I read our dear Mr. Jack is not only the first werewolf to have truly existed, but one of two Bastard Children of God… and also one of the Four Horseman of the End Times". The Chief's drooping, sad-like, dark-grey eyes opened a little, Heinkel Wolfe hissed behind him through her bandages "'His is hlasohmy!"

"Oh? Is that so? What evidence do you have that he isn't?" Integra queried, her troops pushing aside the No-Life King's abandoned case. M'Quve stepped to the Head of Hellsing's side with a question of his own for her, "By 'one of two', am I to assume there is another?"

"The other one is dead," replied Integra stepping around for something hidden in the cleared space, "Killed by her own sibling and twin. Such is the story that is told of our dear Mr. Jack. Our first true werewolf". Another agent stepped forward, this one with swept to the side pale-blonde hair and small round glasses "And the legend of Romulus and Remus." Heinkel growled out and stomped forward pushing pass the nameless man, "Hlasohmy! Hlasohmy! Hlasohmy! No 'onster 'is hay 'hild o' Gohd!"

Integra glared at M'Quve and he in turn turned to Wolfe, "if you can't behave and act human, you can wait here." At the very moment in time as Heinkel stepped back and hissed again, Integra stepped on a dust covered misshapen stone in the earthen floor. A few feet from where the coffin was once at, the ground quaked and an opened passage shrouded with pitch-blackness. At the disturbance of the ground, the sharpshooter of Iscariot drew two gleaming- silver semi-automatic pistols aiming into the depth, "I h'wear h'if that fiend o' hay 'erewolf comes h'rawling out— !" The nameless agent rested a hand on the loaded Vatican assassin, "Easy now, we must not act like animals in the face of such or else we will be the prey."

M'Quve showed a small hint of amusement as he musingly said facing the descending darkness, "In to the depths of Hell we go." Heinkel again growled and hid away her weapons. Integra took charge of direction and, with the aid of Seras' sight and a few flashlights attached to the guns of her men, they walked through the deepening hall. The lightless air was choking and malign, '_So asphyxiating of a sweet stench…'_ thought Integra as she touched her tie. She wanted to loosen it but didn't; doing so would show weakness. During the whole trip down Seras had the smallest of her canon-like rifles drawn (Harkonnen), lowered but with an anticipation of the unknown and sealed away "terror". Closer and closer they marched to the center of this dreading feeling in the shadows… and within was waiting the entombed werewolf. They had arrived to the earthed Under-crypt, a vault door in the way.

The scent clearly was getting to the Draculina, "This odor, it smells of dewed strawberries and summer roses but… i-it… It _reeks_ of a scent so much STRONGER than that of a human's blood. Oh God, it's so unearthly hot!" For a vampire to show signs of discomfort in heat was incredibly unnatural (as if a vampire wasn't already unnatural lest we forget). The climate of the damp underground tunnel was indeed unruly and exotic. This only served tomake the smell more pungent, a scent seemingly tempting to vampires.

Seras was shivering in front of the door, shivering in an unreasonable sense of fear. She hadn't felt a sense of uselessness in so long, memories of so much blood and pain a-washing up in her mind. She could've sworn she would never feel afraid again. This was no mystical works of illusions, no manipulation of the mind—this was pure and utter hatred for the undead she felt directed at her. '_No…_ _it's not for just _me.' The Adam's apple of Chief M'Quve moved up and down in silence, however not betraying any other signs of discomfort or fear. This could not be said for the nameless priest as he stood buckling behind Heinkel, "Th-this raw p-power… Th-this wrathful energy." His eyes were bulging and wider than his own glasses as he trembled in place, Heinkel turning to him her guns in the air "HET HAY HOLD OF H'ORSELF!"

The man could not obey this command, his sanity broke and he nearly collapsed. "This HATRED isn't possible! I-it shouldn't exist to a point of manifestation out of the body! I-I can't be here! Oh Holy Spirit… FORGIVE ME!" He rushed forward to Heinkel and took her gun in her hand, pulling the trigger for her as he had aimed it to his head. The piously devoted Catholic woman's hand quivered as silence fell. The blood of the deceased agent splattered on Heinkel's face and the ground behind.

Everyone stared at the disheveled and headless body, eyes all wide except for M'Quve, "He is damned for all eternity." Seras was leaning on her rifles, keeping her knees off the ground as she shook in the silence of the abrupt death. Integra, fearful as she may have been, took control of her own fear and turned to the vaulted door. She entered a combination of turning numbers and at the last digit it slowly crept open, "It looks like I won't need wasting of my men, Seras pick the corpse up." Seras did as she was told and the armed Hellsing men and the remaining forces of the Thirteenth Division gradually turned to the now open door, staring in and through the final passage and into the chamber.

The suave and middle-aged Bureau Director followed behind the older Integra with intention on getting an answer for the desecration of his agent's body, "What are you planning to use my subordinate's body for?" He kept his tone easy but not flat as he walked to the older woman's side. She scoffed lightly and stopped at the dim sight of four levitating blue flames surrounding and giving a gauzy appearance to one large, cubic, silver, animal crate. Each face of the hollow cube had it, the Cromwell seal. It was engraved in to the silver and around the top edges were locks, three on each edge. Integra squinted her eye and got closer, the feeling of abhorrence for all that walk this world had dissipated to her. She could hear it, the sounds of faint and raspy breaths. "We're going to _feed_ your agent to the Ripper."

M'Quve's old-looking eyes finally went all wide and his handsome features twisted in disgust, "YOU WOULD HAVE US WATCH THIS ACT AGAI—!" Integra turned on her heel and faced the Chief, confidence written all over her face "He is damned, is he not? He committed a grave sin against God. What better place for his corpse if not the pits of Hell that is our dear friend Jack's supposed stomach. If you don't like it, you can wait outside the door."

The male's left eye twitched some as he calmed his opposition and vile look and heaved a deep breath. He combed his gloved fingers through his hair and again the peacefulness that was once in his features returned. Seras came over, her rifles slung under her arms as she carried the fresh and dripping corpse, with one of the soldiers right behind her. The man handed Integra a ring of yellowish-white keys, hand shaking a small ounce of a bit. She, M'Quve, Wolfe, and Seras may not have felt this fear anymore but it was still in the air to those that were not them. Integra gestured for the man still holding the keys to the crate, "Open it."

"_Hellsing—Master Integra Fairbrook… Wingates… Hellsing."_

M'Quve quirked a bit in surprise, stepping away to the door with amusement on his face "It recognizes you as its Master!" Heinkel followed for him with a wide-mouthed grin that stretched ear-to-ear. They and the other agents were the only ones out of the faint-blue lit room. Integra chuckled and looked away to the Section Thirteen Division of Iscariot and the Bureau Director of the entire Iscariot Organization, "It is bound to my fam—You can't watch?"

M'Quve smiled some as the remnants of Section XIII had already left, "I'm afraid not. Have fun training your new _dog_." With that said, the Bishop left for above ground, disappearing into the darkness of the hall. The Hellsing guard opened each lock one by one with Seras behind him ready. As he approached the last lock, a deep snarl came from within. Above and in the distance from whence they came could be heard shaking, the man panicked and stumbled away from the crate "THE PASSAGE WAY!" He fell to the ground and as he attempted to scramble for the now closing door to this haunting sepulcher, the lid to the crate blasted off its hinges, a cloud of blackness and sparking embers emerging from out of it. Seras threw the priest's corpse to the cloud, a ghastly boney body reaching forth with long and tenacious black claws. It's jaws snapped open and tore it's dry raw-hide-like flesh, clamping it's jagged canine-like teeth into the flesh of the still warm dead man.

Everything was happening so very, very fast. Screams and barking of all manner came from the Hellsing soldiers as they disregarded their boss' order to not fire. Integra was backed against the vault door, the age wrinkles of her face skewed into disgust and horror as she watched her men be torn apart. Seras had ran to her side and held her superior in her arms, watching the terribleness that is Jack the Ripper. This ravenous fiend was tearing, shredding, pulling, gnawing, and above all else ripping. Ripping into the flesh and hearts of the humans with its vulgar claws and voracious teeth, silver bullets and mercury did little to nothing to it as it healed from the ash that surrounded it. To Integra, it was like she was a little girl again—watching as Alucard had ripped apart opponent after opponent when she had awaken him. The difference this time around was that it was her own forces being completely decimated and given vivisections, entrails spread about in mopped up blood and earth.

"_SERAAAS~!"_

Hearing the howling screams of her master, Seras Victoria lifted her guns up and opened fired on Jack. Each round rocketed forward into the wolf-person, meaning to put a halt to this beast it hadn't mattered though. The werewolf took absolutely no damage from the blasts, each shot having seemingly missed despite the vampirina's deadly lethal accuracy. Seras stared for a long moment, red eyes wide open with a puzzling expression '_I didn't miss. I can't miss. H-how…?'_

As if it had any meaning if Seras had shot at it, Jack had stopped killing upon hearing Integra's cries. The Ripper approached the two blondes and it was then that Seras saw it. Her aiming was spot on, the bullets, though, had collided with the wall right behind Jack. Seras' breath shivered at the sight, '_My third eye… didn't see her move_'. The form before them in its nakedness was anything but a man—for it was the same gender as Integra and Seras. A very young woman with a strong, muscular yet vixen-like body frame. Her muscles giving the look of stone hardness. This woman stood tall before them, long and slender. She was six-feet-and-two-inches tall, a warm yet pale tan was of her skin, her hair was wild and vivaciously long. Each strand of her untamable locks were blacker than the midnight sky with no stars and the moon to light the earth.

Her eyes were dull and red, evanescently glowing like a wolf's refracting light. They were peering down to Integra, lavender hues in the centers of the glowing red orbs. She stretched out a welcoming hand to the recovering old woman, speaking surprisingly gracefully with a soft however raspy voice "My condolences if my appalling nature took you by a mere fright, My Lady. I am Jack Seward, John preferably if you call me Seward." Integra took the hand of the taller, younger looking woman, staring blankly in to the lavender pupils as she continued speaking "With this new age and era, though, call me… Jacqueline Van Ripper."

TO BE CONTINUED


	4. Order Four: Symposium

**ORDER 4**

** SYMPOSIUM**

"Heinkel?" The Iscariot posse wereon the ground floor, M'Quve leading the group with one less member. The Bureau Director had stopped to look at the lkone regenerator at the back of the line of agents, straight to Heinkel as her fellow memebers moved out of the way. He narrowed his eyes at her with a grim expression, "They aren't dead. Not yet."

"AN' H'WHY NOT!?" laughed out the blonde, female agent.

"That _thing_… It wouldn't kill Sir Hellsing. It completel—"

"HE HANNOT H'WAIT H'OREVER!"

"I know! I know! Patience Wolfe! The tenth can wait—IT MUST!"

"H'OR WHAT!?"

"The No-Life King!"

Heinkel stopped, hissing at the mention of the long gone vampire. Chief M'Quve continued:

"We must wait! It can be years! Decades! CENTURIES! A MILLENIA! We must wait for the King of Vampires! We must wait until this Earth becomes a-washed in the sins of the foul! We wait until we have all monsters gathered! WE WILL SUCCEED IN THE TENTH! Would you strike now and forever miss our chance!? We have one shot! One weapon left! Would we use it now and risk failing for eternity!? Now…. Now we have an even better tool at our dispositition! Oh, great students! My friends and comrades! Oh art the heavenly host bless us today! A Horseman of the impending apocolypse!? But which one could he be! We will wait and see! Pit the Monster Who Rejects God against The Monster Borne From God! The Master of War drenched in red against this masked abomination from our Light! Yes…. This '_werewolf_' is made from Our Heavenly Light. And since it is made of Him, it has been made blessed by Him. We may see this _thing_ as a monster—BUT—it is we who are the monsters to it. We cause strife and grief to eachother—forget Love! This thing cannot see it in us! Humans were made to love, and we have not been very loving for a very long time. We are born with the inheritence of sin, and this beast sniffs it out. It's goal is to punish and banish the Sinful and damned. But, because we are all born with it, it will make no difference if we live our days as saints! If we want the tenth crusade to succeed… We must pit this Monster Borne From God against Alucard! Against Dracula! Against the immortal Impaling Prince! And when it delivers the blow to the No-Life King—WE WILL STRIKE THIS FIENDISH BEING DOWN! It may be born from the Light—IT MAY HAVE LIGHT—But everything about it is unnatural and Evil! The Tenth Crusade…. WE WILL WIN!"

The Vatican agents of Iscariot applauded and cheered, but were abruptly clapped short. Sounds of foreign shoes clacked on the tile of the floor, these steps belonging to Seras Victoria and the Iron Maiden in her old age. Integra came into view and smirked, her suit stained with some splatters of blood "Chief M'Quve… you're in high spirits despite the fact that we control The Ripper." Section XIII silenced their rejoicing and M'Quve stepped forward, clapping his hands "We are all too much thrilled, Sir Hellsing! This means less strain on our behalf if you can take up the majority of 'work'!"

"H'ont be hupid! It is our h'ission to hut a hop to the Un-Holy!" barked out Heinkel, shifting her green eyes to glare at Seras. The beady emerald orbs searched about as she gritted her teeth, all surrounding Heinkel watched "W'here is it!? Hoe us the Onster!" M'Quve sighed, "Calm yourself, soldier… Perhaps Mister Jack is shy— "

"Oh, but on the contrary…" said a soothing, lustrous voice.

Integra's smirk twitched as her icy-blue eye narrowed softly so. They hadn't seen it before, but Integra's shadow wasn't stationary. It was whipping about gracefully as if moved by an unknown wind. Rising up from the shadowy ash came a tall bodily figure, hiding its noticeable womanly features just barely under a grey frock overcoat. She wore something similar to the Victorian Era of fashion: an all grey outfit consisting of tight cloth dress overalls, riding boots, buttoned gloves, a satin dress-shirt, and a black neck tie. Contradicting the Victorian Fashion was some modernity. Buttoned into the tie was a silver cross. Punched into her earlobes were also Silver crosses, two separate symbols hanging from each; A white feather and a black rabbit's foot.

Her hair was tied very low by a lavender satin ribbon that matched her pupils. Upon her face were large, round, moon-like eyeglasses that, when catching light, could easily hide her eyes and eyebrows. Her lips, that were plush and plum-colored, thinned some into a smile. The Iscariot agents stared at the being, perplexed as to who she was. M'Quve stepped forward and gave a slight bow, "And to whom do I have the pleasure of meet- ?"

The woman busted into a hearty, raspy, short laugh that hicced here and there, "Friend, I am the infamous Jack the Ripper." In complete and utter disbelief, Heinkel marched clumsily forward and took a closer look, Integra stepped out of her way. "Hut hyour a h'woman!"

"Indeed I am. Who says I can't? I've made the proper introduction to mi Maestro, but not the rest in her good company. I am '_Jacqueline Van Ripper_'." M'Quve sighed and took her hand, shaking it with a firm grip, "Hello, _monster_." She lowered her head some, the gleam leaving her glasses so that the Chief could see she was glaring at him "Forgive me, I don't like being touched. Especially by… _humans_."

"I'll make a note of that," said M'Quve.

"You better, _Vaticano,_ " was Jack's response.

Seras frowned deeply already sensing the brattled competition between the two before shifting her hollow red eyes to Wolfe. Heinkel felt Seras' stare on her and responded with a glare and noisome hissing. Integra's good eye twitched and she came between her team and Iscariot's, "Stop acting like neighboring gangs of thugs. We're all diplomats, let's start acting diplomatic."

"Yes Master—" said both Jacqueline and Seras.

They stared at each other a bit, Seras seeming to disapprove of Jack entirely. The she-wolf merely smirk and shook her head. Jack walked away from the group, lighting one of 'Hendi Winzermans small cigars'—one of Integra's cigars— by a struck match "It feels too stuffy here, you'd better a good reason for waking me up."

Integra gritted her teeth and barked at the newly awakened member, "THAT'S MY CIGAR!" Jack simply shrugged and continued on to the upstairs floors, Integra stomping after her "I LEAD!" Seras shuffled some and moved her gaze from Heinkel, as Heinkel did the same, to Integra and Jack. "Wait, Master!" called out the Police Girl, following for Sir Integra. M'Quve sighed, "Are we dismissed!?"

"NOT IN THE SLIGHTEST!" commanded the sandy blonde Iron Maiden in which the Chief groaned. He sat down in a chair at one of the parlor rooms and sighed, "It seems this new member of Sir Hellsing's is quite the audacious one." Heinkel sat in the chair across him, crossed her arms, and nodded in silence. Another Vatican agent stepped forward, "This is the other weapon?"

M'Quve smiled slightly as a smirk, "She's no weapon, forget it. No. I know what she is now— Just a means to an end."

Jack stopped abruptly on the third floor and turned to her new master, giving her that same sort of glare, an oblique look to her pale-rose eyes as she gritted her canines on the cigarillo

"I don't trust that man. I don't trust any of them. Every word spilling from their mouths…- I don't like what they're thinking."

**ORDER 4/ END**


	5. Order Five: Bohemian Brigand

**ORDER 5**

**BOHEMIAN BRIGAND**

_I don't want to set the whole world on fire. I just want to start a flame in your heart. In my heart I have but one desire. And that one is you and no other will do…_Jack blissfully sung to herself, as it had been a very early and gentle gliding morning, not yet dawn. The "humming" was coming from the very same aviation machinery that she had been commanding with ease. The jet was a black SR-72—Or rather a similar variation to it. 'Easy-peasy lemon-squeezy! Just like a tank!' Braggedly thought Jacqueline. Her past in WWII was less obscure to Sir Integra who awaited in her home for the werewolf's return.

"Sir," began Seras Victoria the Vampirina, "Are you sure we should trust _her_ so readily by herself. We saw—" Integra waved her hand at her, the old woman's ice blue eye calmly shut with confidence of the beast. Sir Integra thought back to the reel clip of Berlin, thought back to see the very same Jacqueline Van Ripper in a disheveled Soviet Uniform marked with the rank of the _Komdiv of the infantry, mechanized, and motorized infantry_. The flaps of her pale-green collar, they were a crimson with four gold stars. Though, she recalled that Walter and the notes prescribed by her father just after finding Abraham's secret missives often referred to her as _Kapitan _(This seemed weird to Integra considering that such rank as Jack's was then titled _Komdiv_ in the Red Army and was equivalent to Captain but mainly and mostly to Major General).

She thought clearly now of Jack's twisted wolf form in Berlin from that reel, _'they called her Kapitan because that's the highest rank one can have whilst maintaining combat influence on the field of battle'._

"I know what I saw, Seras. Nonetheless, I know she can be trusted on her own. She may slaughter her own men in a tad of excitement, but her intentions have always been best for us mere mortals." Seras sighed deeply, _'she said mere and mortal in one sentence, I'm beginning—hm?' _Integra abruptly stopped talking as the youthful Sir Irons knocked and opened at the same time, making his-self known and entered. Seras turned her attention to the young man, approx. fourteen. Gold hair, calculating blue eyes, and a softly-sculpted face that carried a sternness. He was here on business and not for the pleasure of tutoring.

"Sir Hellsing," spoke the always-thinking lad. Integra had nodded him to continue. "Sir," Irons began again, "I'm sent by General Rob Walsh about the matter of this new acquisition of yours. He feels it is too soon and hasty to send her on her own. Especially with the delicacy of—" Integra swiftly turned her back to him and walked to her desk in the window-lit office.

"She's the right one for the job," assured the aged woman.

"How so, Director? We know not much of her loyalty to you." Dismissed the teen

"This mission, I've ordered it to be a _'Sweep and Clean'_ operation."

"Excuse me…?"

'_Hmph,' _began thinking Integra, _'Nothing betrays his composure.' _Integra resisted her urge for a puff on a cigarillo and folded her hands, "Those things, they cross the line of what is natural. If or if not they exist is not the matter, the base should be cleared of and vacated." The young Irons stood at his wait by the door, thinking before answering "She's under surveillance by two _Blackbirds_."

Her icy blue eye widened a little, then a smile wrinkled on her face before releasing a chuckle "There's a perfectly good reason why I sent Jack the Ripper out on this little job. It's not just her ability of swift destruction that I'm counting on, but her ways of maintaining stealth. In the Second World War, after denying my father her allegiance from a misunderstanding…"

' '_Misunderstanding' my arse. Sir Richard wanted Jack in a French maid outfit along-side Walter' _Thought Seras. A male with a heavy French accent retorted, _'I 'ould zink she 'ould be a bloody damn good ad-di-tion back zen!' _Typical Pip Bernadotte.

"… Not only was she leading infantry, but she learned much in engineering for the sake of her . Like a doctor for tanks. You would imagine why she was so excited to receive a _Raptor_—She wanted to LEARN from it and completely MODIFY it" finished Integra. "M-modify? How? By what means and ends!?" demanded Irons. Integra sat back and smugly smirked, "I'm afraid she's just made aviation history. _Without even being seen or noticed_."

The two _Blackbirds _soared through the air, trying to communicate as _the Inkpots _chattered over their radios, "Sir Irons, we're having difficulty finding the new variant and we keep getting intercepting noise."

Irons rose a brow and sat calmly, "What is it?"

The first pilot immediately responded, "Swing music, Sir."

Integra chuckled and leaned back, "Oh God… She's in _that_ mood."

The coordinates were for a base in Somalia. There had been reports of strange experiments conducted on long dead remains and some even more reports—retired Nazis in hiding. They were there, too. Thanks to the new Irons, files had been made that these war criminals had also, along with the Vatican, funded inhumane projects. These projects weren't detailed to Jack, she had one order:

"Jacqueline…. _Sweep and Clear! Don't let anyone in that base live! _This base, it isn't Somalian in origin. We have reason that Nazis are still looking to come back. Cut their golden thread short! _SEARCH AND DESTROY!"_

Jack was all the more happy to oblige, 'what a magnificent woman'. Jack could on her radar the two _Blackbirds_ and scoffed. Despite having to struggle with learning the history of the past 40 years, she found the technology invented in that time to be extraordinary. 'Pilot-capable unlike the original purpose of this craft, Invisibility fabric, Radar-evading Plasma to hide heat signature, gun capacity at a maximum, and nice music…' The _Blackbirds_ birds behind her were out of date compared to what she had Frankenstein'd. She flew behind the two, and launched two guided air-rockets. As soon as the missles left their holders they became noticeable... at twice the altitude that the _Blackbirds_ could fly at.

By collision, the black super-jets blasted apart, engulfing flames like fire-works in the high sky. "You're in my way!" barked Jacqueline, making a nose dive move through the large clouds of fire. The SR-72 decendant of the _Blackbird _rmade it's way for the base, releasing several more missles-there target being the watch-towers and the center of the research camp. The officers on watch took notice of the missiles but could not find the Super-Jet. They turned their 9 mm flak turrnets to the sky and fired their Ground-to-Air Missiles in hope of finding the black, invisible speed-demon, "Where the FUCK IS IT!? IT'S IN BROAD DAYLI-"

_BOO-CRRSHHH-OOOOM! BWOOOSH!_

Sir Irons looked to Integra, "We've lost all communications and intel."

The SR-72 made it's devastating blow, slamming dead-ahead into the neo-Nazi science base. Smoke pillard upwards from the large and ensnaring blast, the bright Afrikan sky dark with ash, the ground lit up by the blazing inferno. Hanging off of the schrapnel of what was left of the spy-jet was what appeared to be a mangled Doctor Jack. Other corpses were strewn about in awkward poses as they became burnt to a crisp. A few minutes passed before an unnerving, raspy chuckle broke the silence of destruction. The chuckle was coming from the SR-71, from Jack's riddled body- it had regenerated and flopped up to peer over the area.

The blood that had painted the black scraps of metal had dried and peeled off, turning to a black ash and floating like a steady stream to her. Her dangling arm had pulled itself back together, as if the meat was string in a fabric piece. She climbed out of the wreakage and two massive guns out from under the scrap metal. Two GAU Avenger Gatling Guns- both seemingly having adjustments to be hand-fired but with kept dimensions. A crazy idea, as no normal human could posses the strength to weild these- crazier if the Police Girl couldn't carry these. Jack strapped these heavy-duty cannons on over her soldiers, letting the ammo docks hang behind her as she made large, stridding skips. Pressing the triggers hard, the guns made Jack skid some in her shoes. The shells blasted through the remains of the buildings and towers, the Ripper cackling as each had crumbled, ash falling from the sky like it had been snow.

Then it struck her, a child's cry for help. A child was screaming and crying from inside and Jack let go the triggers with wide, red eyes. Water had gleamed her eyes, as if she was ready to cry herself with terror '_Why would a child be here?'. _Jack threw off her guns, running to the cries of the small child. She followed the sounds until she ran into an encavement, more horrified of what she had done. She yanked each pieceof wall and cieling out of her way with ease and determination and perhaps a hint of anger. With each follied structure thrown out of the way, the cries became louder as did her rage.

Then, throwing the last piece off, she saw the youngling. It was a little boy- a toddler- with short black hair, long side burns, and brilliantely grey eyes. On the nape of his neck was a barcode tattoo, it's numbers and letters read this:

_"W.C.D. 1999"_


	6. Order Six: An Unorthodox Rendezvous

ORDER 6

An Unorthodox Rendezvous

"INTEGRAAAAA!"

Integra's office door was kicked in by none other than Jacqueline Van Ripper—The door had turned to splinters to the woman's impossibly strong kick. In the Ripper's arm was a small, pale-white child. His hair was a glossy black and 'twas short. Sir Integra looked utterly stunned as did Sir Irons and Seras. Though, while Integra and irons was looking at Jack, the Draculina was staring at the four-year-old. She darted a finger at him, her red eyes a-glow "THAT! That's him yet…! He can't be here!"

Integra looked from Jack to Seras then to the child with curiosity, she then saw the resemblance, "My God…." Irons looked as well, but did not catch what the problem was. Integra furrowed her brows as Seras took a defensive stance, "Where did you get _that_? What is _it_ doing here!?" Jack held the child closer, "_HE_ was in the base. _YOU _would've had me _KILL_ him. HIM! A CHILD! I DO NOT HARM CHILD—."

"THAT IS NO CHILD!" Integra, Irons, and Jack looked to Seras as she continued "_THAT_ is Walter C. Dornez! _THAT_ is a NAZI! That—

The child turned its head to view the three new faces to him, his grey eyes large. The young, teenage Irons cleared his throat and sat back down with a grin, "I can explain how this child is here…" The three woman looked to him, two of three with puzzled expressions. Jack hugged the child more as Irons continued, "That base, it is Nazi in origin. But we failed to tell you the deeper secrets to this base. You see… that boy in your arms Dr. Seward… is a clone." Integra's blue eye widened some before she then clamed and took her perspective seat, "I see."

Jack took the child to a seat and sat down with him, "What will we do with him?" Seras growled and leaned against a wall as Integra tried dismissing her. Integra sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, "We can put him up for adoption." Irons shook his head and chuckled some. Jack narrowed her eyes '_Where does this little twat get the balls to voice an opinion?'_ Irons then gave an option, "Give Walter over to a family we know nothing of? Out of the question."

Seras leaned forward with some sense of disapproval, "We kill him!?"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" Jack barked. She shot up with Irons, Integra, and Seras watching her. "You may not accept him here in this household, but I will care for him! I will raise him outside of the household and train him myself! We will return when the time comes! You will learn to trust him—He won't be like the Walter that betrayed you! He won't do that… Walter C. Dornez… you'll learn to trust him again." Irons clapped his hands and stood up, walking to the doors, "I'll be sure to tell the council members at once of this." Seras was prepared to follow Irons out, giving Jack one last glare.

Jacqueline sighed some and patted Walter's hair, "That police girl doesn't approve of me."

Integra chuckled and sat back, "Not in the slightest."

"Is it because I'm a replacement?"

"Yes and no…"

"No?"

"She doesn't approve of this child either. A disgrace to his memory it seems."

"He's with us now though… He won't be like the las—the original."

Integra and Jacqueline stayed quiet for a moment, pondering in the silence. Jack sighed some, looking at the floor when the silence was broken "_Jack_." The voice was small, soft, and sincere...coming from Walter. Integra's lips wriggled, her hazed icy-blue eye obviously had thoughts behind them. She relaxed with a sigh, making decisions that she never thought she would have to make. Finally Integra spoke, "Fine. You will stay in London, just not here. Perhaps near Hyde?" Jack sighed and nodded.

The toddler clung on to her coat, grey eyes looking up with an innocent, pondering look.

London 2030…. Alucard returns.

The night had passed. Alucard's sudden appearance had caused quite a disturbance in Integra's mind. Seras, however, was more than happy. The past ten years was spent with Jack the Ripper, 'Walter', and Seras. Jack had filled the void that Alucard had left. But now both? This would be quite troublesome. Had he known what Dr. Seward was? Does Alucard even remember who Seward was?

'It doesn't matter,' thought Integra ,'What matters is that he's here and introductions will have to come to pass. They WILL find each other at one time or another. They always have…' As if on cue, Alucard had come to appear to his Master. He came to her sight, sitting in the chair across from her, with a perpetual little smirk. How was it that Alucard was here on daylight hours? The Schrodinger's Cat ability. Neither dead nor alive, so long as he thinks for his will to act. He is in the daylight because he believes himself able, 'Just how much can Alucard do with one pesky soul…?'

As if answering her, he replied with his sooth, chilling, hollow voice "Very much, My Master. One soul that can exist or not. One soul that can be many. One soul that can be one. One soul that can be here or there," He raised his head some to look eye-to-eye to the weathered Iron Maiden, "You are hiding something from me. Integra snorted and narrowed her one eye at the No-Life King, "Just as you hid something from me. You and Walter both…" Alucard rose a brow, a complex look of confusion on his face, "Whatever do you mean?"

The young Sir Irons—now 20 years older—came through to the office, handing Alucard a vanilla file. Integra sighed and sat back with a calm smile, "Dr. Seward is back."

Alucard's skewed look of confusion became dead pan with wide eyes, "Seward? Jack Seward? He's alive…? I would've thought he died years ago." He opened the file up and was dismayed when the important information and even picture on the one-time student of Van Helsing was not displayed. Instead this folder contained details on a mission that was currently being completed by two individuals. Reading through, he stopped at one name "Walter Cummin Dornez…" He narrowed his red eyes at the name, "What trick is this?" 

Integra chuckled, "It isn't him. At least not the real _him_. Why don't you pop in and make introductions?" Alucard grimaced and before his Master's very view, he had disappeared—Integra tried not to look surprised. Late in the evening half past midnight, the vampire walked his way through an exotic nightclub near King's Cross. He wore over his shoulders a black trench coat, his slacks were a lighter black that matched his vest and tie. His satin dress shirt was a deep, blood red.

He took in a deep inhale, pushing up his red shades as he smelt the stench of sweat and alcohol. He found this place with the naked dancing-women to be below him and his standards. Tall and pale with long, straight, black hair, he stood out as a sore thumb amongst the men that were not distracted as he scanned over their heads. He found '_who' _he was looking for and walked to his direction. Making his way to the bar where a particular boy was at, he grinned manically. The boy was a pale white, his short onyx-colored, shiny hair flowed freely and he was wearing a black speedo and bow-tie.

A fourteen year old Walter was roaming about, giving men their drinks until he came back to the bar. When he got there he looked up to the Vampire starring sinisterly down at him, the vampire snickered "Hello, Walter~". Walter gave him a blank look, twirling a cheap cigarette between his lips, "Who the hell are you, Vampire?" For the longest moment, there was a long awkward silence between them until it finally clicked to the boy, "Dammit! What the fuck are you doing here~!?" Alucard's grin wrinkled along his lips once more and widened.

He scanned about the club once more as Walter took a drag of his tobacco-tube, his grin disappearing as he looked for another male. "Walter, where is Doctor Seward? I wish to see this 'old friend'." Walter blinked a bit, soon taking in the fact that Alucard didn't know what Jack actually looked like. Walter smirked and bit on his cig, offering Alucard scotch "Go sit in the front row, Jack will be in plain sight." Alucard didn't like this kid's show of ego but proceeded to a clear chair that was in front of the stage. He sat there with his scotch, slouched in the chair and his legs stretched out. The lights dimmed, the music halted.

Alucard looked up at the stage as the DJ announced the next routine rather loudly, "~NEXT is our newest Lamborghini. Give a holler for our shocker, our little 'RIPPER'!" That name caught Alucard's attention right and quick, because if there's one certainty he remembered of Doctor Seward, it was that he was the Ripper. Alucard perked as a faint blue light glowed above a tall, curved body that swayed to a slowly progressing "Shock Rock". Out stretched the woman's arms, waving to attract the attention to that a belly dancer would. When the metal came to a full blast she began her pirouettes on the pole. Lights flickered on of different shades. Alucard casually finished his scotch, Walter coming to refill with his back turned to the dancer, shivering and puffing on his cigarette furiously, repeating himself "~don't look, don't look…"

Walter left, wobbly and Alucard watched on. The way this woman's long, luscious black locks waved about and twirled around her own body gave an almost hypnotic atmosphere. The Vampire King chuckled some as he did indeed see a few men fall into a trance. The song came to a distorted warbling end, the woman leaning backwards from her legs to, to reveal she was blindfolded… and to reveal her face. Alucard dropped his glass and the amused and slightly arousing look on his face disappeared "It's you."


End file.
